Back to 1984: I built a chicken farm on a barren mountain.

The site where the Shuiqian Village Reservoir was built.

As the first rays of sunlight illuminated the riverbed, the stone-carving workers began to arrive one after another.

These strong men, each carrying a large sledgehammer, marched proudly towards the quarrying site.

Chen Shouyi was among this group of people.

The quarry was piled high with stones quarried from the mountains, which needed to be quarried into smaller pieces for the construction of a reservoir.

Everyone took their positions, rolled up their sleeves, and the clanging sound of stones being struck rang out one after another.

Chen Shouyi noticed a very strong young man not far away picking up a small stone and smashing it repeatedly.

"Women!"

A wave of disdain arose in his heart.

Back in the day, Chen Shouyi was the strongest man in the surrounding villages.

He may not be good at using his brain, but when it comes to physical strength, no one dares to challenge him.

He carried the hammer toward a large rock, while looking down at the other rocks with the air of a hero.

Chen Shouyi thought about how he was the eldest son in his family, and now he was a husband, a father, and the head of the household. He had his responsibilities and pride, which were also the source of his confidence to strive for a better life.

As the morning glow bathed his entire body in gold, Chen Shouyi felt a fire burning within him.

The fire set his entire body ablaze.

He spat into his palms, rubbed them together, then gripped the hammer handle tightly with both hands and kicked down hard with both feet.

Instantly, a force flowed from the earth to his feet, then from his feet to his calves, thighs, and subsequently to his waist, hips, back, and shoulders...

With the arm raised high, the force is transmitted through the arm to the hammer.

Chen Shouyi let out a "Hi!" and the sledgehammer came crashing down.

when!

Sparks flew and white smoke rose.

When the white smoke dissipated, the stone did not crack as expected.

Chen Shouyi was not discouraged, recalling similar situations that had occurred when he was chiseling stone before.

Just as he was about to deliver the fatal blow to the rock, he suddenly realized that his arms were sore and numb, and he could hardly lift them!

With a piercing pain in his lower back, he froze, like a shrimp whose vein had been removed.

Chen Shouyi remained frozen in the position as the hammer fell.

He finally understood what had happened.

He strained his back...

......

When Chen Wenfeng and Zhou Zhiming arrived at the village committee, the loudspeaker broadcast had already stopped.

From afar, they saw village chief Chen Youwei waving at them, pointing towards the office as he waved.

After Chen Wenfeng gave the village chief a response, the village chief turned around and went to the meeting room to start a meeting.

When Chen Wenfeng and his companion arrived at the village chief's office, they saw the postman leisurely drinking water.

"Uncle, I've come to collect the letter."

"Chen Wenfeng, right? Here's a letter for you."

The postman handed Chen Wenfeng a large manila envelope.

The writing on the kraft paper was very neat, and it read:

Chen Wenfeng, Chenjiazhuang, Qiwang Town, Zunxi County, Tangshi City (received).

The newspaper's address and postal code are printed in red on the envelope; this is a custom-made envelope from the newspaper!

Chen Wenfeng weighed the weight of the letter in his heart, but a doubt arose in his mind: Could this be a rejection?

Just as he was about to open it, the postman handed him another note, saying:

"Sign and collect your royalties."

He immediately realized that if the manila envelope didn't contain a rejected manuscript, then it must contain a sample copy of the newspaper.

Ha, you're just scaring yourself!

He quickly signed the document, and the postman gave him the payment.

There are actually 56 yuan!

He counted them carefully and then solemnly put them in his pocket.

Zhou Zhiming was dumbfounded.

He never expected that Chen Wenfeng could do the work of two months of hard labor in such a short time!

He blinked his big eyes, and silently made a decision in his heart:

I want to write an article too....

"There's another letter, also for you."

The postman handed him another letter.

But there was no stamp on the letter, and no writing on the envelope; it was simply sealed with glue.

"Where did this come from?"

"Our post office manager brought it back the day before yesterday when he went to the county post office on business. He said it was from your friend."

"Friends? Friends from the county?"

Chen Wenfeng was puzzled. He hadn't announced his rebirth to the world or called his friends. Where did he get friends in the county town?

Just as he was wondering, he heard the postman laugh heartily and say:

"I don't know the specifics; I only visited a few villages in our town."

"Anyway, it was my post office director who told me to make sure this letter was delivered to the right person."

That's why I've been waiting for you until now.

After saying that, the postman left.

Could it be my friend?

Did you catch fish so quickly?

Chen Wenfeng eagerly opened the letter without a stamp.

He pulled out the letter, and saw that several stamps fell out, totaling a full 2 cents.

That's equivalent to the price of a registered letter.

He picked up the stamps and put them away, then opened the letter.

The penmanship on the letter was vigorous and powerful, with a mix of regular and cursive script, quite impressive.

The letter was refined and elegant, stating:

"A kind review by Mr. Chen Wenfeng:"

I have long admired your reputation, but have never met you.

I recently read an article by the author in the Tangshi Labor Daily discussing the midnight bell of Hanshan Temple, and it was quite inspiring.

Although I am not talented, I still enjoy poetry and literature.

I would like to invite you to the county town soon for a chat, and I would like to hear your insightful opinions in person.

Xin Qiji wrote in his poem, "I don't regret not seeing the ancients, but I regret that the ancients didn't see my madness. Only a few understand me."

You and I are like these two or three gentlemen!

Best wishes to Wenqi.

Signed: Wu Jiajun, owner of Xiyanzhai Studio

April 15, 1984

It was him!

It's written in a rather literary style!

This person is the author of the article "On the Fictionality of 'Midnight Bell' in Zhang Ji's 'Midnight Bell Tolls on the Passenger Boat'".

Xiyanzhai's real name was originally Wu Jiajun.

Chen Wenfeng saw that the letter was followed by an invitation to meet at a time and place, but the handwriting was more messy, clearly written by someone else:

"Please invite Brother Chen to the third floor of the Zunxi Jiuzhou Hotel at noon on May 21st. I will prepare a simple meal and some wine. I hope you will do me the honor of attending."

Chen Wenfeng thought to himself, if there were internet now, he could just type in the name Wu Jiajun and anyone who was a big shot, no matter what their identity was, could be found.

Information was simply too limited in this era.

It's the 21st, and today is already the 19th.

Isn't that the day after tomorrow?

Looks like I need to go and have a look at this Xiyanzhai!

Chen Wenfeng folded the letter, put it back in the envelope, and put it away.

Next, he opened the envelope containing sample newspapers, which contained two newspapers with different dates.

He glanced through a newspaper supplement that published the article discussing the sound of the bell at Hanshan Temple; the content was slightly abridged from the original.

Another supplement published the article "A Summer Breeze on a Night," which took up more than half the page. Chen Wenfeng glanced at it and found that not a single word had been changed.

So this royalties were mostly thanks to my third uncle's inspiration; all that listening to the songs late at night wasn't for nothing.

When Zhou Zhiming saw Chen Wenfeng's name in the newspaper, he was overjoyed, as if he had discovered a new continent, and held the newspaper tightly, reluctant to put it down.

Chen Wenfeng said with a smile:

"Brother, it's nothing. I'm going to the county town the day after tomorrow to visit some relatives."

Zhou Zhiming was taken aback, and replied:

"Brother Feng, I've never heard of you having any relatives in the county town."

"It'll be available as soon as you come to our door."

Chen Wenfeng said mysteriously.

Chen Wenfeng thought that if he took the bus, he would have to find a ride to the restaurant when he arrived at the county station, so he might as well ride a bicycle.

But we don't have a bicycle at home. Although we've been planning to buy one, we're currently in a situation where we have free time but never the money.

So the plan to buy a bicycle was repeatedly postponed.

He looked at the royalties in his hand. A bicycle now costs at least 150 or 160 yuan, and this was still a lot short.

Moreover, popular brands like Forever, Phoenix, and Flying Pigeon require industrial tickets or special bicycle tickets.

Thinking of this, Chen Wenfeng continued to instruct Zhou Zhiming:

"I'll treat you to breakfast early the day after tomorrow. We'll go get some tofu pudding, and I'll borrow your Phoenix bicycle while I'm at it."

"good!"

Upon hearing that he wanted tofu pudding, Zhou Zhiming readily agreed.